untitled
we are a secret to most
everyone but ourselves
as we blast queer joy
in your hunked up jeep
teasing each other about
who we might be if real
ness wasn’t served, if
we didn’t give up tight
jeans and a septum ring
so soon. what world
have we left behind
this bright side so shielded
ashamed, despite love
in all directions.
I tell you my perversions
during breakfast, eating
eggs stupidly slow. You
take my plate then hold
me and I forget how to cry.
4 thoughts on "untitled"
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Love this, especially “we blast queer joy/in your hunked up jeep”
Gorgeous, you are an amazing poet
Love that the end lingers on the eating of eggs. I see eggs as symbolic here, they are latent and full of potential.
Hell yes to “we blast queer joy /
in your hunked up jeep.”